


Eggnog and Double Entendres

by zenonaa



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc
Genre: Multi, winter 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-24
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:21:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21938881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: '“So, what do you think of your treat?” asks Monobear.“It’s pretty good!” Aoi pipes up with her mouth almost full.“Ah good!” Monobear says. “I thought the poison might have made it taste funny.”'Monobear generously decides to treat everyone to a Christmas dinner. There is probably nothing in the eggnog.
Relationships: Asahina Aoi/Ogami Sakura, Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya, Ikusaba Mukuro/Kirigiri Kyoko/Naegi Makoto, Ishimaru Kiyotaka/Oowada Mondo
Comments: 9
Kudos: 69





	Eggnog and Double Entendres

A crowd has gathered at the cafeteria doors when Mukuro arrives, mascara clotting her lashes and her makeup not blended in totally. She rubs at an itch by the corner of one eye as she draws up to the back of the group. They barricade the entrance with their backs toward her. 

“Huh?” she goes in her best drawl as she cranes her neck. “What’s going on here? Why are we all hanging outside?”

“‘Attention. The cafeteria is undergoing refurbishment and will not be open today’,” Aoi reads aloud at the front of the congregation, her finger hovering near her lips.

“W-What is this?” mumbles Touko, wringing her hands. “Is that thing planning on starving us now?”

“Thing?” cries out a voice indignantly. 

Everyone swivels around. A short distance behind Mukuro, Monobear shakes its fists, and if it could produce spit, that would have sprayed from its unmoving smirk.

“I am not a thing. My name is Monobear Nobuyo Tarako,” huffs Monobear. “Also, bzzt! Just because the cafeteria is unavailable today, doesn’t mean I’m gonna starve you! It’s way too early for that... if I run out of ideas, I might do that in the next mutual killings, but no.”

Monobear places its paws against its pudgy stomach. Everyone else narrows their eyes.

“Hey, don’t look at me like that! Not after I’ve made the effort of putting together a Christmas party,” says Monobear, prompting the faces of the others to contort into another shape from disbelief.

“A party?” repeats Mondo.

“Follow me!” Monobear motions for them to follow, but after a few steps, it turns around and sees that no one has. “This is compulsory, by the way!”

Kiyotaka breaks from the stupor first and the others thaw out shortly after. They trail after Monobear, who leads them through the school, and enter the trophy room. In there, they dawdle, slowly spreading out from their loose single file, and Monobear, at the front of the group, opens the doors on the other side of the room.

Strings of tinsel hang from the gymnasium ceiling, drooping in inverted aches because they’re pinned up at regular intervals. Some are red, some are gold and some are both, like a raccoon’s tail. In the corner of the hall sits a Christmas tree, decorated like one would expect from a western movie, wearing baubles, strings of beads and flickering lights, with the only thing out of place being the ornament at the top of the tree. It depicts Monobear dressed as an angel, posing with a harp with one foot kicked up daintily behind itself.

A long table in the centre of the room attracts their attention, with its tartan tablecloth and plates of food covering it. Monobear struts over and waves toward the table.

“Here you go!” it chirps. “I went all out for you bastards. Turkey, roast potatoes... Southern fried chicken... I’ve spoiled you!”

It then speaks its laughter, upupupu-ing, as everyone gravitates toward the table. The food beckons to them, its warm, spiced aroma crooking its wispy fingers at them. Plates, cutlery and cups mingle with the foods, presented as a buffet.

“Dig in!” Monobear says.

“What’s the catch?” asks Kyouko.

“Catch? No catch! What, don’t you trust me?”

They don’t have to say. Monobear tilts its head to one side and rests its paws against its mouth.

“Listen,” it says seriously. “If I wanted to kill you, I would have already. The fact is that the cafeteria is out-of-bounds and it’s nearly Christmas, so I thought I would throw this together for you. That’s all there is to it.”

Even so, they hesitate, and only Mukuro steps forward to grab herself a plate. Just like her sister told her to, Mukuro helps herself to some turkey and stuffing. 

Her skin prickles as all eyes fall on her. She hears muttering.

“Enoshima-san?” Makoto yelps. 

When she turns to them, one of her cheeks is puffed out from the brussel sprout tucked into it. “What? 

She chews and swallows, and as she helps herself to some carrots, Yasuhiro and Aoi are the first to look from Mukuro to the buffet. A minute passes and Mukuro has yet to keel over or projectile vomit. Someone’s stomach growls, and slowly, the rest of the class begin picking at the buffet.

“You’re all idiots!” Byakuya sneers, standing back. “You - ”

Yasuhiro slings an arm around Byakuya’s shoulders and shoves a forkful of turkey into Byakuya’s mouth.

“Lighten up, Togami-chi!” Yasuhiro says, beaming. “It’s delicious!”

Byakuya chews with a sour expression.

Everyone ends up with a plate. As the meal progresses, the buffet gradually shrinks. They sit in small groups around the gymnasium with only a few people by themselves. As usual, Byakuya sits alone and Touko eats a short distance away, between him and the rest of the class. Kiyotaka eats alone, most of the guys sit together, Celes sits with Aoi, Sakura and Chihiro, and elsewhere, Sayaka and Makoto sit together.

Mukuro lingers by the buffet, staring over at Makoto and Sayaka. Her stomach hardens as she studies them, as Makoto wags his fork and Sayaka giggles behind her hand. She can’t hear anything they say. It’s all noise, mixed in with the scrapes of cutlery and barks of laughter around them. As Mukuro’s eyes narrow, the world blurs slightly, and all she can hear is a flatline.

That should be Mukuro with him, laughing at his jokes. Being smiled at, and smiling back at him. Fluttering her lashes. Feeling warm. Feeling loved.

“Is there something on your mind?”

And just like that, the world comes crashing back in. Mukuro blinks and turns. Next to her, Kyouko gazes back at Mukuro who slaps on a wide smile. Inside, though, she seethes.

Oh, how Mukuro wishes she could read Kyouko’s mind, but Kyouko’s face has no cracks to slip through. It’s frustratingly blank, unreadable, with a faintly quirked brow. Whenever they make eye contact, Mukuro thinks that at any moment, Kyouko is going to announce all of Mukuro’s secrets. Curse Kyouko, for being so smart. So intuitive. So beautiful.

So intuitive.

“I’m, uh, just...” Mukuro licks her lips before giving her head a carefree flick. “Like... the floor must be super dirty from like... people running on it? So I don’t want to sit on it... you know?”

Kyouko cocks her head and Mukuro imagines herself beading with sweat. 

“... I suppose,” says Kyouko, and she strides off to sit by herself. Mukuro internally sighs in relief and sits with Aoi, Celes, Chihiro and Sakura, who make room so she can join the circumference of their small circle.

As they eat, Mukuro doesn’t say much, letting the others carry the conversation. They chow down happily despite the whole living situation going on. Though Mukuro knew about the buffet, she’s still surprised that Junko went through it, but as Mukuro pummels turkey between her teeth, she knows she has nothing to worry about. After all, this is her sister.

That’s what she tells herself.

Over and over again.

The class get through most of the buffet, and Mondo and Hifumi are hunched over the table when Monobear swaggers along, paws held behind its back.

“So, what do you think of your treat?” asks Monobear.

“It’s pretty good!” Aoi pipes up with her mouth almost full.

“Ah good!” Monobear says. “I thought the poison might have made it taste funny.”

“Nope,” says Aoi cheerfully, and she almost has another bite.

Then she realises what Monobear said and flinches. Shouts rumble in the gymnasium as Monobear’s words sink in. People hug themselves or jump to their feet. Monobear regards them all with a twinkle in its beetle-like eye.

Mukuro remains sitting down. This must be a trick. Like when Junko used to lock her in various containers and leave her there for a few hours. Sometimes days. One of those sorts of childish tricks, because she wouldn’t poison her sister. Maybe they all heard her wrong.

“P-Poison?” Kiyotaka splutters.

Monobear rocks back and forth on its feet. “Yup.”

“But... you said...!”

“I lied,” replies Monobear. It becomes still and flourishes the claws on one paw. “Upupupu... If you don’t act soon, you’re all going to have explosive diarrhea. But don’t worry... I put the antidote in the eggnog, as a Christmas treat!”

Everyone gapes as Monobear runs out of the room. It soon hauls in a trolley with bottles of eggnog on it. Lots and lots of eggnog. Celes purses her lips.

“And why should we believe you?” asks Celes, with her hands at the ready on her lower stomach.

“I told you. If I wanted to kill you, I would have,” replies Monobear. It gestures to the trolley. “Now, the antidote concentration is pretty low, so you’re gonna have to drink a lot of it for it to work.”

This is definitely a joke. It has to be. But then Mukuro’s stomach cramps, whether it be from poison or just nerves, and she doesn’t think. She bursts forward, grabs one of the bottles and chugs it down, not caring if she stains her shirt. All she can do is trust her sister.

And as everyone else pounces, they have to trust Mukuro.

Monobear stands back and watches.

* * *

Within an hour, the trolley is barren, and much of the hall has emptied.

As Mukuro sits with her back against the gymnasium wall, peering into her empty bottle, she thinks how weird it would be if the mouth of the bottle had teeth. She laughs to herself and stands up shakily. At some point in doing so, the bottle rattles by her feet, no longer in her sweaty hold, and she walks forward.

Which would be easier if the damn floor stopped swaying. The only people still here are Hifumi, Yasuhiro and Leon, who sit together, talking animatedly about something Mukuro can’t focus on. But they’re way too loud, their voices like bullets, so she has to get out and find somewhere quiet. Heading to the door, she hears some of the words, like chick and rub and cock, and she gives them a disgusted look as she leaves.

“... I’m telling you, humans can’t imprint on chicks, so it’s okay,” comes Yasuhiro’s muffled, slurred voice. “I researched them for years ‘cause my ma said I had to before I got one... Their bones are delicate, so you can’t be rough.”

He starts crying.

Adjoined to the gymnasium is the trophy room, with its tables of metallic representations of past achievements and glass cabinets showcasing more. Not the ideal place to nap, but she could lie behind a table, and the wooden flooring doesn’t look too uncomfortable. 

Mukuro takes a few more steps before pausing and scrunching her face. Never mind. The room is unsuitable due to the two guys making out in it. 

She slips past Kiyotaka and Mondo, who are standing flush, and leaves.

“... I think it’s a D,” says Mondo, struggling to make out the writing on the plague.

Kiyotaka tilts his head, one eye wider than the other. “Really? I think it looks like an O.”

It’s a rare moment of peace for them. Those two always seem to be butting heads. On the surface, they’re as different as different can be. One is a gang leader while the other enrolled at the school for his work as a public morals committee member. Yet despite their first impressions of each other, lingering like the smell of sweat after a military drill, they have more in common than they assume. Both are dedicated, hard-working, and stand tall for what they believe is right. Mondo wants to become a carpenter after spending his life breaking things, and Kiyotaka values effort and being dependable. Things Mukuro admires too.

They would make a good pair, encouraging each other with their goals, providing support, though Mukuro thinks they would be too high maintenance for her. Kiyotaka and Mondo synchronize in a way that makes her feel like she has two left feet, and when they clash, she doesn’t have the bounce-back that they have.

The corridor walls seem to glitter rather than glow evenly as they usually do. Because the dorms are all the way across the school, Mukuro decides to go to the next room she stumbles across instead, and that happens to be the school shop. Surely something in there could provide a suitable bed. Its shelves brim with antiques and nicknacks, and suits of metal armour stand behind the counter. 

Maybe she could construct a bed from black-ringed barrels, but she could even sleep on the floor if need be. She’s used to that. In fact, it took her a few nights to adjust to sleeping in an actual bed when she first moved into the school.

However, opening the door, she frowns.

“Wow, Sakura-chan, I thought I was impressive. Your jugs are huge!” gasps Aoi, ogling Sakura, who blushes. Her eyes shine. “I just wanna hold them in my hands!”

Mukuro retreats and shuts the door after herself.

“I am sure with enough training, you would be able to,” says Sakura, holding a tower of ceramic jugs in each hand, perfectly balanced, unwavering, while Aoi struggles to keep her shorter tower of plastic jugs upright.

Those two get along brilliantly. Have done so for longer than they realise. They enjoy each other’s company, lift the other up, and Mukuro feels like she would be intruding if she stayed with them. No way she could keep up with Aoi’s upbeat attitude like Sakura can. Exercising? Easy. But Mukuro’s thorns would puncture them and she doesn’t know if she would have room to breathe.

This is getting ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. Her classmates can’t be in every room. Stomping now, Mukuro brings an earthquake to the door of the laundry room, where she can fit herself into a basket of clothes or even curl up in a washing machine. She reaches for the door handle, but before she opens it, she hears voices. Because of course she does.

“And you’re sure this is how you do it?”

“Y-Yes! I mean, I’m fairly sure... It can’t be too hard, right?”

Mukuro peeks in. Touko is sat on a washing machine with Byakuya stood in front of her, blocking most of Touko’s body from view, his hands on his hips. 

To be honest, Mukuro doesn’t know what to make of them, even after all this time. Both try to keep others at an arm's length and then some. One would think someone so cruel like Byakuya and someone with a persecution complex like Touko wouldn’t get along at all. Yet no matter what Byakuya snaps at Touko, she takes it in her stride, letting it brush past her cheek or throwing back a retort with something that could either be a smirk or smile or both. Often, they are found together, even if they don’t seem to be interacting, and every time, Touko wears a grin and seems to be enjoying some sort of in-joke that the others are not privy to while Byakuya remains as stony as ever.

If Touko is teaching him how to wash clothes, they’re going to be noisy, so Mukuro just goes. They would grate on her after a while, anyway. Byakuya frowns, adjusts his glasses, and says, “I’ll take your word for it,” before dipping his head between Touko’s legs.

Despite Mukuro’s desire to not have to cross the entire school just to get some peace and quiet, she is almost at the dorms by now. At least her room has soundproof walls. Mukuro clenches her jaw and is about to turn into the last corridor when she hears a moan.

Not from the dorms though. Elsewhere. The storage room. And it sounds like Makoto.

Her eyebrows arch and she veers in another direction, following the noise. Definitely the storage room. She shoves the door open, takes three steps, looks, then freezes.

Makoto and Kyouko spring apart, tearing their hands off the other. The saliva string between them shatters immediately.

“I-Ikusaba-san!” Makoto gasps.

Mukuro’s lips contort like she’s talking, but no sound comes out. Kyouko looks calm.

“Care to join us?” asks Kyouko.

Silence.

Then,

“Sure,” says Mukuro, and she stumbles into their arms. They fall down together and don’t get up for some time.


End file.
